Hired Guns
by Simon P
Summary: Harry Osborn hires the world's best assasin, an amnesiac named Ramses, to hunt Spiderman down. He equips the hitman with some of Oscorp's best technology... CHAPTER 5, "Lock and Load" NOW UP!!! R/R !
1. Enter the Spider

- Zealot -  
  
Spiderman fanfic by Simon P.  
  
This is my first attempt at fanfic of any sort, so please be patient. Also, I'm from Canada, so I spell colour and humour with a u.live with it! And I don't put a hyphen in 'Spiderman.' This is based more on the movie than the comics. Anyways, enjoy.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or anything so don't sue me. Feel free to distribute, but please leave this disclaimer intact along with me email and name (Simon P, whygodwhy@imstressed.com). Oh, and if you make money from this story, I want a cut. ;)  
  
Chapter One  
  
Spiderman sat on the parapet of a New York City skyscraper, staring down at the traffic stories below him. It had been a quiet Saturday afternoon, criminally speaking. No bank robberies, car chases or muggings at all. Spiderman was bored out of his mind.  
  
"I suppose that I should be glad that there's no crime," he thought aloud, "but I can't help but feel so.bored." It's not that he liked seeing innocent civilians being threatened by megalomaniac super villains, but his job seemed so tame since his bout with the Green Goblin ten months earlier. Spiderman yearned for more action.  
  
He stood up and looked around. Wind pushed against his suit and the sounds of car horns could be heard from down below. He leaped off the building, dropping a few stories before shooting out a string of webbing and swung down the street. Whenever he was swinging, the wind roared into Spiderman's ears and blocked out the sounds of the people and cars below him. The only sound he could hear was his webbing shooting from his wrists and his stomach growling.  
  
"I'd better go home and get something to eat." Spiderman changed directions and headed for his apartment.  
  
Ramses looked up to see the wall crawler swing off. He lit a cigarette and took a puff. He was a rather tall man and very muscular, although no one could guess it because of the loose trench coat he wore. He would have been a handsome man, had it not been for the scars on his face. Rough stubble covered his jaw.  
  
He walked back to the apartment he was renting. He had made sure to get a place that Spiderman often passed by. Ramses had been following and watching the spider for weeks. Learning his tendencies, his patterns and his movements. He knew the superhero like no other. He looked out his window at the city of New York. If was loud, polluted and vulgar. He hoped this was not his hometown. "Where am I from?" he thought.  
  
His cell phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket. "Hello?"  
  
"Mr. Ramses?" The voice was deep.distorted to disguise the caller's identity.  
  
"Speaking."  
  
"This is your employer. I'd like to know when you are going to attack the target."  
  
"Soon. I'm still watching him."  
  
"Well, I have good news," the voice had heavy bass. "I have a new tool for you."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I would rather not talk about this on the phone. I will send some men to your apartment in one hour."  
  
"Very well."  
  
"Goodbye." Click.  
  
Ramses grunted. This was one of the most secretive employers he'd ever had. "Why bother?" He asked himself.  
  
Ramses had a strange cerebral disorder. His brain couldn't hold a memory for more than two years. With each day that passed, he forgot one day that had happened to him two years before. He had no knowledge of his home, why he lost his memory or even if 'Ramses' was his real name. Frankly, though, it didn't bother him much. Employers seemed more trusting in him this way, and they paid handsomely. Ramses was content with his nomadic life as a hired assassin.  
  
Ramses walked over into the bedroom. The whole apartment was very bare, and this room was no different. He slid a large black leather briefcase out from under his bed and placed it on top. He undid the locks, and with two clicks, opened it. The metallic silver of the guns contrasted heavily against the black felt inside of the suitcase. He took out a .50 calibre Desert Eagle with a 10-inch barrel, and popped an ammo clip into it. He put it into his holster, concealed beneath his coat, and waited for his guests to arrive.  
  
He loved guns. He had thought about quitting and trying to cure his mental problem, but there were some things he loved about his job: the adventure, the action, the sound of a gunshot, and the pay. Ramses felt like a hunter, and people were paying him to do his hobby. Over the years, he'd killed businessmen, politicians, and one Colombian drug lord.  
  
Just a few weeks ago, this employer contacted him at his Italian home and flew him to New York in a private jet. Almost as soon as the plane touched down, Ramses was whisked away to this apartment. A black leather bag was waiting on the table. Ten thousand dollars were in that bag, along with a letter describing the job.  
  
Kill Spiderman! To do such a thing would be almost impossible, and if Ramses could do it, he'd know that he was the best assassin alive. It was the supreme challenge.  
  
There was a knock at the door. Through the peephole, Ramses could see a pair of large men waiting. He unlocked the door and swung it open. The two men looked at him without saying a word. He moved out of the way and they walked into the apartment, placed a large metal case on the table, then turned around and walked out the door.  
  
Ramses walked over to the table and opened the case. There was a note sitting on top of the weapon. It read:  
  
"Mr. Ramses,  
  
In this case you will find a weapon to help you deal with the target. After having read the enclosed instructions, destroy the documentation and make sure that the authorities do not find this weapon, it could be traced back to us. Good luck.  
  
-Your bosses." 


	2. Clash of the Titans

Here's Chapter Two, version 2.1 of my story.don't worry, the action's coming soon.I took the creative liberty of saying that electricity takes the stickiness out of Spiderman's webbing. Please don't kill me. I fixed a hole in the plot that LAXgirl pointed out..thanks :P  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, blah blah blah.  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Peter Parker took the bowl of macaroni and cheese out of the microwave. He was alone in his apartment. Harry Osborn, his roommate, hardly ever lived there any more. He spent most of his time at his mansion home or at his Oscorp office, but still paid his half of the rent. He was rich, it hardly affected him and he was doing a favour for his friend Peter.  
  
Peter Parker on the other hand, could hardly scrape together enough money to pay his rent, hence his habit of eating Kraft dinner every day. Spiderman photos didn't sell as well as they used to, and J. Jonah Jameson, his boss, hadn't given the superhero a cover spot in months. Unless something dramatic happened to Spiderman soon (and Parker got pictures of it), Jameson would probably fire Peter.  
  
Peter had been spending the last few months alone. He refused to let anyone get close to him emotionally, for fear of their life. He hardly visited his Aunt May, and hadn't spoken to Mary Jane since his goodbye in the cemetery. However, with all the lack of action in Peter's life, he was beginning to wonder if rejecting Mary Jane, along with the rest of the world, was such a good idea. Spiderman had no known enemies since the Green Goblin died.except for Jameson, that is.  
  
Peter sat down on the couch and turned the TV on. It was time for the six o'clock news. He almost prayed to hear of some great tragedy occurring.but the top news story was the death of a famous silent film actor. "Ah well, I guess I should be happy that no one's in danger," he said aloud. "Maybe I should move to a different city.somewhere where there's more action."  
  
He finished eating and washed his dishes. Peter wondered if he really needed to go out tonight. Nothing had happened in the last 10 months, why would something happen now? He shook his head. "No, I'd better go take a look around," he thought. "Better safe than sorry."  
  
Peter donned his costume once again and set off to patrol New York City.  
  
Ramses stood on the roof of his apartment building, armed and ready for battle. He was wearing a black muscle shirt, and loose black pants, and a futuristic-looking black visor on his head. His Desert Eagle was strapped to his side, and a knife tucked into his boot. Several gas grenades dangled from his belt. In his hands he held a rifle-sized tazer gun. On his back there was a shiny metallic jetpack, with short wings on each side. The controls for this jetpack were tied to his right arm, and two buttons were on the sides of his boots.  
  
Ramses pulled the visor down over his eyes, disguising himself, and turned it on. He tapped the button on the side of the visor to cycle through the viewing modes.infrared, night vision, motion sensor. By turning a knob on the other side, he could magnify (zoom) the image.  
  
The sound of a modem dialling filled his ears. The corner of the screen read, "Dialling. Connected."  
  
"Mr. Ramses?" The disguised voice of his employer asked.  
  
"Yes?" He answered.  
  
"This is your employer. I'm speaking to you through the headset. I can see and hear everything that you can. Did you read and destroy the documentation?"  
  
"Yes I did."  
  
"Good. Handling the jetpack is very simple. When you tap your feet together, the jetpack will give a short burst and launch you."  
  
"There's no place like home," Ramses mused.  
  
"Right." The low, mechanical voice didn't show any signs of amusement. "Continue tapping your feet together to keep yourself flying. Don't hold on the thrusters, just short bursts. Leaning will move the flaps on the wings to steer. The tazer rifle in your hands shoots electric darts that probably won't kill the target, but will stun him temporarily."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"And if the target ensnares you, bite down on the mouthpiece." Ramses took the rubber mouthpiece that was dangling from the headset and put it in his mouth. "The tazer rifle will give you a jolt of electricity, but it should undo the webbing. And don't lose any equipment, it could be traced back to me!"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
"Now kill Spiderman."  
  
As if on cue, a blue and red steak flashed by Ramses. Spiderman! Ramses ran to the ledge of the building to see the wall crawler swing down the street.  
  
"Was that him? Go get him!" The employer yelled.  
  
Ramses leapt off the building fearlessly and tapped his heels together. He felt heat on his back, and was shot into the air by the jetpack. He leaned forward and shot off once more.  
  
Spiderman felt a tingling sensation.. "Spider sense." he said aloud. He welcomed the feel; he hadn't been in danger for months. "Finally, some action." Spiderman shot some webbing and landed on a rooftop.  
  
He spun around to see a man flying through the air towards him. Ramses landed on the other side of the rooftop and stumbled as he landed.  
  
"You're new to this flying deal, aren't you?" Spiderman quipped. Without saying a word, the man raised his tazer rifle and shot at him. Spiderman leapt into the air and landed on the wall behind him, and saw the dart hit just below where he was clinging. The projectile let out a crackling buzz sound.  
  
"Nice hardware, mind if I have a look at it?" From his wrist, Spiderman let out a shot of webbing at the man's hands. The webbing clung to the rifle and Spiderman yanked his string. The rifle flew out of Ramses' hands and onto the ground.  
  
"Bite the mouthpiece!" The employer ordered. Ramses bit down on the rubber in his mouth, and the tazer rifle let out a crackling noise. Bolts of electricity flowed through the webbing and shocked Spiderman. The wall crawler let out a yelp and severed the webbing.  
  
Ramses took the Desert Eagle out of its holster and fired at Spiderman while lunging to grab the tazer. Spiderman dropped from the wall, and leapt off the side of the building. Ramses picked up the tazer in one hand and leapt off the building after Spiderman.  
  
Ramses had to drop a few stories before noticing that Spiderman was nowhere within sight. He tapped his heels together and spun around to see the superhero clinging to the side of the building they had just jumped off of.  
  
"People shouldn't be leaping off buildings like that without some sort of safety line, don't you think?" Spiderman shot out a thread at Ramses. The he was enveloped in spider silk, and started to fall. Spiderman disconnected the thread from his wrist and attached it to the side of the building. His enemy swung downwards, then smashed against the building.  
  
Ramses moaned and the mouthpiece fell out of his mouth.  
  
"Give yourself a shock, Ramses, it'll free you!"  
  
"The mouthpiece fell out." The assassin tried to grab the rubber bit with his mouth.  
  
"Having some troubles?" Spiderman was hanging upside down from a thread, watching Ramses struggle to get the mouthpiece back into his mouth. Spiderman chuckled. "Let's see who's under this thing." He went to lift the helmet, but Ramses slammed his helmeted head against the wall, pinching the dangling mouthpiece between his head and the bricks.  
  
A jolt of electricity came out of the rifle in his hands and through his body and the webbing. The thread disconnected at the top and Ramses fell. The painful tingling of the electric shock faded from his body, and he tapped his heels together again. The heat from the jetpack melted most of the threads, and Ramses freed himself from Spiderman's bonds. With another click of his feet, Ramses soared into the air, put the mouthpiece back between his teeth and spun around to face the Spider. He held his pistol in one hand and the tazer rifle in the other.  
  
The two combatants had made such a scene already, that police, ambulance and news crews were gathering on the street below. Red and blue lights from police cars shone, and news cameras were aimed at the sky.  
  
Ramses holstered his Desert Eagle and fired at Spiderman with the tazer rifle. Spiderman was still hanging where Ramses was a moment ago. He let go of his thread and swung to the other side of the street narrowly dodging the buzzing electric darts. Ramses launched himself closer to get a better shot. Spiderman, now clinging to a wall on the other side of the street, shot at Ramses with his webbing. He missed, and the assassin fired back at him.  
  
Ramses' aim was truer than Spiderman's. A dart embedded itself into Spiderman's torso, and jolted him with an electric shock. The bolt sent shocked his brain, causing it to give out every signal it could. Spiderman's body flailed stiffly and his tense wrists shot off webbing aimlessly. He then blacked out and fell from the wall. People on the ground screamed.  
  
Spiderman fell for what seemed to take hours. He kept falling, arms dangling helplessly with long cords protruding from his wrists.  
  
One of the cords struck a wall, and as Spiderman fell some more, it came tight and swung the hero's unconscious body to the other side of the street. With a resounding crash, he smashed through a glass window, only two stories from the ground, and landed violently in an unlit, closed women's clothing boutique.  
  
"Get him!" Screamed the employer.  
  
"Yes sir." Ramses leaned forward, tapped his heels and shot ahead to finish off the unconscious superhero. He needed to slow down, to spread out the bursts between jetpack shots, to aim for the window that Spiderman fell into.  
  
As Ramses dropped altitude, people were looking up at him, pointing and yelling obscenities. He shrugged their insults off. A police spotlight blinded him momentarily until his eyes could adjust.  
  
"To the armed.um, flying man." a police voice said hesitantly into a megaphone, "Drop your weapons or we will open fire. You are under arrest."  
  
Ramses ignored the threat and landed on the ledge of the window that Spiderman had fallen into. Then, a gunshot! A bullet whizzed by his head.  
  
"Shit!" Ramses cursed. "The police are shooting at me."  
  
"Get out of there!" The employer ordered. "You're no good to me dead. You can get Spiderman some other time."  
  
"Yes sir." Another bullet shot by him. He turned around and leaped out of the window. With a few quick shots of his jetpack, he soared off into the night.  
  
Inside the store, Spiderman groaned as he regained consciousness. "Oh.where am I?" He looked around and found himself propped up against a broken shelf. He picked a bra up off his head. "Looks like I took quite a spill."  
  
Spiderman then heard footsteps.someone was coming up the stairs, but his spider sense didn't feel a thing; it wasn't an enemy. Nevertheless, Spiderman glanced at the fire escape.  
  
A few seconds later, the paramedics burst into the room to find a shards of glass and a broken shelf with bras strewn upon the floor, but Spiderman was nowhere to be found. 


	3. The Plot Thickens

Chapter 3 is here! Thanks to all those people that reviewed my story! The story can only get better if you help it! This Chapter is shorter than the last one.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.you know the drill.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
After leaving the scene of his battle with Ramses, Spiderman swung home and fell asleep without setting his alarm. He wasn't going to go to work the next day, he would be too sore and J. J. Jameson would be mad that he didn't get pictures of the only title-page Spiderman story in months.  
  
Finally, some action. But he wondered who wanted to kill him. And where did he get those gadgets?  
  
He'd think about it in the morning. Peter Parker had barely gotten to his suit off before falling asleep.  
  
Ramses was sitting on the roof of a building in a run-down part of the Bronx, waiting for the city's excitement to calm down. The battle had taken place almost right in front of his apartment, so he couldn't go back just yet.  
  
"Boss, you there?" He hated calling his employer 'boss.'  
  
The voice in his headset sighed heavily. "Yes."  
  
"I can't go back to my place, the police are all there, and I don't have any place to hide this equipment."  
  
"Why did you fight him so close to your apartment?"  
  
"He came to me! You told me to go after him!"  
  
The voice sighed heavily again. "Go to the Brooklyn Bridge. There'll be a pair of black sedans waiting for you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I think you need better equipment. The men in those sedans will take you to me."  
  
"You're finally going to let me see you?" Now Ramses was interested.  
  
"Yes. Be at the bridge in ten minutes. Try not to attract too much attention on your way."  
  
"Yes sir." Ramses hated calling his employer 'sir' almost as much as he hated calling him 'boss.'  
  
The assassin hopped off the building and slowly landed in an alley. Using short bursts to jump from alley to alley he tried to remain as hidden as possible.  
  
A little over ten minutes later, he found the pair of black sedans waiting for him at the end of the Brooklyn Bridge. Ironically, the cars were parked next to a small statue of Spiderman commemorating the spot where he defeated the Green Goblin and saved the city one year before.  
  
Ramses landed next to the sedans. As soon as he touched down, two men dressed in black suits hopped out of each vehicle and took his equipment off. They loaded it into one of the vehicles. Then, they escorted him into the back seat of the other sedan and drove off.  
  
The drive was long. The men didn't prevent Ramses from watching where they were going. After a few minutes, they pulled up to a large building. Both vehicles parked in the underground parking lot. Ramses stepped out of the vehicle and saw the Oscorp logo on the wall.  
  
"Oscorp?" He thought. "That explains where the gadgets come from."  
  
One of the goons glared at him. "Follow me. Mr. Osborn would like to talk to you."  
  
He nodded. Three men escorted him into an elevator. The ride up seemed to take almost as long as the car ride over. Ramses noticed now noticed how tall the building was.  
  
The doors opened with a bing. The men nodded and Ramses. He stepped out into a large room. The walls were lined with paintings and photos of a man and his son. At the other end of the room there was a large mahogany desk and a large leather chair with the back turned to Ramses. The far wall was one large window, overlooking the city of New York. The elevator doors closed behind him. Ramses walked over to the desk.  
  
"Mr. Osborn?"  
  
The chair spun around, and there sat young Harry Osborn. He was not the young, energetic man he was a year ago, however. He seemed stressed, probably because he had taken the reins of his father's company at such a young age. Nonetheless, the company had done well in the last year. Harry looked tired, there were bags underneath his eyes, and his hair was slightly messed. He took a sip of brandy from the glass on the desk.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Ramses." He put the glass back down on the table. "You did pretty well tonight. Spiderman was injured, although I doubt that it's serious. But you make a big scene; you'll certainly be on the cover of the Daily Bugle tomorrow morning. Luckily, I don't think that anyone got a good look at you."  
  
"Do you think the attack will be traced back to Oscorp?"  
  
Harry stood up, turned around, and looked out the window. "I don't think so. We made sure to make the technology you used untraceable. There are no marks on it leading back to us, and there are dozen other weapons research companies in America."  
  
"The police will wonder about our motives."  
  
"Spiderman too. He's got other enemies, but seeing as how." Harry almost blurted out about how Spiderman killed his father, but didn't. "He might suspect Oscorp sooner or later. Our company and Spiderman have a history together. Before he figures it out, though, you have to kill him. And this time you'll do it."  
  
Ramses couldn't tell if that was a promise or a threat. Probably both.  
  
"So I'm being re-equipped?"  
  
"Yes. This time with our best equipment."  
  
"Can't that be traced back to your company?" Ramses asked.  
  
Harry sat back down in his chair, and turned to face his hired gun. "Yes, that's true Ramses. That's why you'll have to steal it."  
  
A mischievous smile crept across Harry Osborn's face. 


	4. Reunions

Well, thanks to everyone for the positive input. Each note makes me want to write even more :D Well, without further ado, here's Chapter 4. As far as dialogue and characters go, this is my favorite.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Peter groggily awoke from his sleep. Shafts of light shot through the window and warmed his face. The sounds of New York's traffic came in through the window. He rolled out of bed and slipped on some jeans. He looked at himself in the mirror. His Spiderman costume had given him an awful head of hair.  
  
"Mask hair," he mumbled.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Peter spun around to see Harry Osborn standing in the doorway. He was well dressed in an expensive Italian suit. However, he looked just as bad as Peter. Peter glanced around the room and made sure that the Spiderman costume was well hidden under the bed.  
  
"Harry! What are you doing here?" He asked.  
  
Harry smiled. "Legally, I still live here Peter." He looked at his friend, then tucked his sleeve back and looked at an expensive silver watch. "You slept in a little late, didn't you?"  
  
Peter looked at his alarm clock. "10:30. yea, I was up late last night... with some friends."  
  
Harry smiled. "Right." It was obvious that he didn't believe him. "Working, I bet. You know, Peter, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Then, to himself, "like I'm one to talk."  
  
Peter put a shirt on. "I'd better be getting to work. Why'd you come over, Harry?"  
  
"I came to grab a few books that I left here. I'd better get them."  
  
He went down the stairs and started rummaging through the bookcase. He pulled out Boom, Bust and Echo, a book on economics. He flipped through the pages. Many excerpts had been underlined or highlighted by Norman Osborn, his father.  
  
Tears filled Harry's eyes. He missed his father. He had been dead for almost a year now. Just as they were starting to reconcile, his father had been taken away from him.  
  
Taken!  
  
Taken away by Spiderman! Harry turned from sadness to anger. He slammed the book shut and squeezed it between his tense hands. Why? Why had Spiderman killed his father? The whole city viewed him as a hero, but how could a hero kill someone's father in cold blood? Why? Someday, Harry knew, he would face Spiderman, unmask him and find out who he it was that had killed his father. And Harry would exact his revenge. Someday.  
  
"Harry?" Peter Parker was coming down the steps behind him.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, composed himself, and turned around smiling. "Yeah?"  
  
"Could you, um, give me a lift to work?" He asked politely. "If it's not out of your way?"  
  
"Sure. Anything for a friend." Harry said.  
  
Harry drove a red BMW. He preferred driving himself instead of being chauffeured. He had always thought that paying someone to do something he could do himself was a waste of money. Peter sat in the passenger's seat, admiring the car and trying not to break anything.  
  
They pulled up to the offices of the Daily Bugle. As Peter grabbed his things, Harry asked, "You take pictures of Spiderman, right?"  
  
Peter was caught off guard by the question. The whole ride to the office had been in silence. "Yeah, I do."  
  
"How do you get so close to him? I mean, the Daily Bugle's the only paper that gets such good shots of him."  
  
"Well, I kind of have a feel for him. I mean, once you get in his head."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Um, I'd better go. JJ's not going to be happy to see me." Peter said.  
  
"Okay, Peter. Hey, you want to grab a bite to eat tonight?"  
  
"Um, I'm kind of busy tonight. What about lunch?"  
  
"I'll be busy. Some other time, I guess."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"See ya Peter."  
  
"See ya Harry."  
  
Harry drove off. Peter walked into the building, and tried to get to his desk without his boss, J. J. Jameson, seeing him. As he sat down at his desk, Peter thought he had made it, but then.a newspaper slammed down on in front of him.  
  
"Do you know what this is, Parker?"  
  
"It's today's paper, sir."  
  
"It's today's paper, Peter Parker." Jameson paused for a moment thinking about his impromptu tongue twister. "And do you know what this is?" He pointed at the cover photo.  
  
"That's a picture of Spiderman, sir."  
  
"That's a picture of Spiderman taken months ago, Parker!" He was practically yelling. "We must be the only paper in the city that doesn't have photos of what happened with that freak last night! You've been taking pictures of Spiderman doing nothing for months, and as soon as he makes the front page, you're nowhere to be found!"  
  
"Sir, I."  
  
"AND," Jameson added, "You come in late the next day! Are you trying to push my buttons, boy?"  
  
"No sir, I."  
  
"I don't want you to come back here into this office until you have some exclusive photos of Spiderman in action! And you don't get paid until you come back here with some cover page material! Whether I like it or not, that freak sells papers, and it's my job to sell papers! Get out of my sight! And brush your hair!" With that, J. J. Jameson stormed into his office and slammed the door shut.  
  
"Why me?" Peter moaned. He looked at the newspaper Jameson had left. The headline read Spiderman duels with enemy above city streets. Just beneath, in smaller writing, 'Hero' endangers civilians and destroys private property. Peter shook his head in disbelief. Taking pictures of himself while he beat up muggers was one thing, but it would be impossible to take a picture of himself fighting that flying marksman.  
  
"Peter?"  
  
Peter looked up.  
  
"Mary Jane!"  
  
"Hi." A beautiful smile crept across her face. "I came to say hi and see if you were okay."  
  
"Okay? Why would I." Peter tried to find the words.  
  
"Why? Um.well." She seemed just as awkward. "Do you want to go get something to eat? I mean, if you have the time off."  
  
Peter glanced over to Jameson's office. "Yeah, I have the time."  
  
A few minutes later, they were in a café down the block. Peter was gazing down at his reflection in his coffee, and Mary Jane was looking at him.  
  
"Are you still taking pictures of Spiderman?"  
  
"Um, yeah."  
  
"Easy money. You always know where to find him."  
  
Peter looked up at her. "What do you mean.I mean.it's hard.Spiderman's hard to find."  
  
Mary Jane smiled at him. He was nervously drawing circles around the lip of his coffee mug.  
  
"When was the last time we saw each other?"  
  
Again, Peter was caught off guard. "Um, I don't remember."  
  
"At Harry's dad's funeral." She paused and took a sip from her coffee. "You kiss just like Spiderman," she grinned. Peter was panicking and trying not to show it. Mary Jane put her hand on Peter's. "It's okay," she said in a low voice, "I know. I knew then."  
  
"Did you tell anyone?"  
  
"Of course not. My lips are sealed."  
  
Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He had been keeping his secret identity to himself for almost a year. Now he felt relieved that someone else knew, and that he could trust that person with his biggest secret. Now Peter had someone he could talk to about his nightlife, someone to share his stories with. Suddenly, he then felt as close to Mary Jane as he did a year before.  
  
"It's kind of a relief that someone else knows," he said, "and I'm glad it's you, MJ."  
  
She smiled again, and kept her hand on his.  
  
"Once I realized who you were," she said, "our talk in the cemetery made that much more sense. I understood why we couldn't be together. It would too dangerous for me."  
  
"Yea, I cared too much to be with you. I didn't want another incident like on the bridge."  
  
Mary Jane took a sip of her coffee before continuing.  
  
"Since the Green Goblin died, though, not much had happened to you, though. I wondered if it were still impossible for us to be together. Then I saw you on the news last night, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."  
  
Peter smiled. "Thanks MJ. I'm fine."  
  
Mary Jane saddened. "Well, I guess that I'd better get going. I mean, since your okay and all." She stood and picked up her purse.  
  
"Wait MJ." Peter got up. "I need a favor."  
  
She leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Peter or Spiderman?"  
  
"Me. do you know how to use a camera?" 


	5. Lock and Load

Chapter 5 is here! But before I start, I'd like to mention a few things.  
  
I liked the movie. A lot. And yes, I even liked the ending. My older bro said, "Geez, why didn't he just bone her?" But I think he didn't grasp the whole 'great power/great responsibility' thing. I found it a smart ending that showed how Peter Parker was becoming even more responsible. I'd like to hear what you guys think.  
  
Keep sending those reviews in! I've started the habit of checking my email, then immediately going to check the new reviews for "Hired Guns." ( It's the best part of the 'job.'  
  
Anyways, enough of my incoherent rambling, here's Chapter 5 of "Hired Guns," by your friendly neighbourhood Simon P. ;)  
  
Chapter 5  
  
It was late afternoon, and the sun was just hitting the New York City skyline. The sky was a beautiful blend of oranges and yellows. It was the best sunset Ramses had ever seen. Well, the best sunset he had seen in two years, anyways.  
  
Ramses was again dressed in black with his Desert Eagle, tazer rifle, and jetpack. He was sitting on the roof of one of Oscorp's warehouses just outside of the city, far from any other buildings. He picked at his teeth with his knife. He sat there waiting for what seemed like hours. Then, the speakers in his headset started making noise.  
  
"Ramses, are you there?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"The convoy's arriving. Get ready."  
  
"Yes sir." He looked down the road and turned the knob on the side of his visor. The screen zoomed in and showed a line of armoured vehicles driving towards the warehouse.  
  
"Are the guards in the warehouse disposed of?"  
  
"Yes sir, the gas worked perfectly. They'll be asleep for a few more hours."  
  
"Good. Just like we planned, get ready."  
  
In a few minutes, the 3 vehicles pulled up to the warehouse. The first and last cars were black sedans, much like the ones that had given Ramses a ride the other day. The middle vehicle was a black armoured van with the Oscorp logo on the side. A guard got out of the front car and walked to the large door. As soon as he touched the keypad to unlock the door, however, there was a large buzz.  
  
Sparks flew out of the numpad. The guard yelped as he was shocked, thrown back, and landed on the hood of the black sedan behind him with a loud thud.  
  
Ramses leapt off of the roof of the building and fired his tazer rifle at the two sedans. His darts jolted the vehicles with electricity. Inside of them, the drivers and passengers flailed helplessly, them slumped over the dash, motionless.  
  
Ramses landed on the top of the front sedan, and fired his rifle at the armored van. Electricity flooded over the surface of the car, but the people inside were left unharmed, but shaken.  
  
The driver of the van tried to call for help on his CB, but it was shorted out. As long as they stayed in the van, however, they were safe.  
  
Everything was going according to plan. Ramses smiled and then picked up the unconscious body on the hood of the sedan. He took out his knife and held it against the throat of the motionless body. The guard was still alive, but all Ramses had to do was slide his knife and.  
  
The armoured van driver got the message. Slowly, he and the passenger opened the doors and stepped out.  
  
"Don't hurt him!" The passenger yelled.  
  
"Drop your weapons!" Ramses ordered.  
  
The men obeyed and threw their guns onto the ground.  
  
"Handcuff yourselves to the side mirrors. No tricks."  
  
The guards complied, and attached themselves to the van. There was no way they could pull the mirrors off the fortified mirrors. Ramses dropped the body, put his knife away and pointed his Desert Eagle at the guards. "Now," he said, "I'm going to help myself to a few things in your van. Don't move, or I shoot you both. Got it?"  
  
The guards nodded.  
  
Ramses took their keys and unlocked the back door. The back of the van was bare, except for one metallic crate marked "Secret." He opened it using a key he stole from an unconscious guard inside the warehouse. He spoke into his headset; "Sir?"  
  
"Put it on now, then destroy the evidence."  
  
The crate contained Oscorp's latest project, a suit for the US Armed Forces' 'Army of One' project. The government had contracted Oscorp to design and build a prototype suit to push American infantry into the 21st century. The suit, which Oscorp code-named "One," was superior to what any weapons firm had in development.  
  
The helmet looked like one for a motorbike, but had more circuitry than a home computer inside it. It was equipped with night vision, infrared and motion sensors, not unlike the visor that Ramses was currently wearing. Like Ramses' helmet, it could pick up and transmit radio and television signals. Where it differed from the previous model is that it covered the whole head and protected the wearer from bullets, shrapnel and chemical weapons.  
  
The body suit was tight and black and was made from an advanced form of Kevlar. It as well resisted most bullets and shrapnel. It was thin however, so it wasn't cumbersome like conventional armour. A small keypad and screen were on the arm. This pad controlled the jetpack, and the screen had a GPS system.  
  
The gun that came with the suit was an original model made by Oscorp. It could fire like a normal semi-automatic rifle, and the secondary fire was a small flamethrower. The flamethrower shared its fuel with the jetpack. The belt of the "One" suit held flashbangs and grenades.  
  
In a few minutes, Ramses was dressed head to toe in his new battle gear. The black helmet and jetpack gleamed. He kept his knife and Desert Eagle pistol. He took the belt from his old suit and popped the pin out of one of the grenades. Then, quickly, he leapt out of the back of the van and closed the door behind himself.  
  
There was a loud yet smothered BANG as the grenade set itself and the others off. The van rocked and smoke poured out of every crack, but the armour lining the back compartment kept it from flying apart. The two guards that were chained to the mirrors yelped and fell to their knees. As Ramses walked around the van and up to them, they stared at him with awe and slight terror. The setting sun reflected off his helmet.  
  
Unknown to them, Ramses smiled underneath the helmet. This suit made him feel more powerful than he could remember. He tapped some buttons on his arm keypad, and his black metallic jetpack shot him into the air, leaving a trail of smoke behind him.  
  
He sailed through the air, towards New York City, towards Spiderman.  
  
And this time, he wasn't going to run away. He spoke into his headset.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Good job, Ramses. Now go get Spiderman. Out."  
  
Harry Osborn turned off his computer and put his mike into the drawer of his desk. He spun around in his chair and looked out the window of his building. The sun had just dipped under the horizon. It was a beautiful sunset. Harry pitied Spiderman. He hoped that his father's murderer was watching this sunset. It was truly amazing, and it would be the last he'd see.  
  
In a few minutes, Harry expected one of his right-hand men to run into the room and report on how Mr. Osborn's warehouse was attacked. He would report that the convoy was attacked as well, and that their contents were stolen by the same armed man that had attacked Spiderman. Then Harry would be stunned, and would order that man to contact the NYPD.  
  
He hadn't felt this good in a long time. He was proud of himself; he was about to do what dozens of two-bit criminals and even the Green Goblin had tried to do for months  
  
Then, the next morning the Daily Bugle would read SPIDERMAN KILLED. Yes, the city's greatest hero would be knocked down after less than a year on the job. It would be a day of mourning. Even the flags on the roofs of Oscorp's buildings would fly at half-mast. Then, another headline would follow just under that one:  
  
SPIDERMAN'S KILLER FOUND DEAD, CAUSE UNKOWN  
  
"Sometimes I amaze even myself," Harry smiled mischievously. 


End file.
